


Insight

by DarkestSight (Daylight)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Also a tiny Gideon cameo, Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Most of the season 3 team is there but the others play only small parts, RipFic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-28 11:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13903071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daylight/pseuds/DarkestSight
Summary: When Sara and the team try to find out a bit more about the secretive Rip Hunter, they learn more than they bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Although there is nothing graphic, this fic does contain stuff which could be considered child abuse and also non-consensual drug use.
> 
> This takes place in mid-season 3 but is slightly canon divergent as you will see.

Through the forward window of the Waverider, the remains of the Vanishing Point could be seen hanging in space, the once magnificent headquarters of the Time Masters now not much more than twisted scrap metal wreckage. 

Rip stood gazing out at it, his arms crossed over his chest, his back leaning against the helm. He was completely still as if mesmerized by the remnants of his past life. There was a distant look in his eyes and a tightness in his jaw. 

Sara stood beside him but she was more interested in studying her companion than the view outside. Her eyebrows drew together as she gazed at him wondering what was going through in his mind. Was he remembering the destruction of the Occulus and what they had lost that day, something that still made her own heart twist painfully, or was he remembering how the Time Masters had betrayed and imprisoned him, or how the Legion had used this as their headquarters when they twisted his mind? Or was he recalling happy times? Had there been happy times? This place must have meant a lot to him once upon a time.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked.

“Hmm?” Rip replied distractedly as if slowly coming back to himself. 

“You seem to be doing some pretty heavy thinking over there.”

“I was merely wondering whether or not this is such a good idea.”

Sara nodded though she doubted that was what had really been on his mind. “I don’t like being here anymore than you do.”

That was definitely true. The Time Masters might be gone, the Legion too, but something of them still lingered in the air, a permanent taint of dark corruption. That and the bad memories associated with this place had been making Sara uneasy ever since they arrived. Sometimes she wondered how Rip could have failed to notice the inherent evilness of the Time Masters for so long. Rip wasn’t an idiot and Sara truly believed he was a good man at heart despite his many mistakes, but even after they had refused to help save his family, he had still believed in the sanctity of the Time Masters as if there was something incorruptibly righteous about them and anything else was inconceivable.

“But like you said, we need the information on Mallus,” she continued, “and who knows, having access to all that Time Master info might come in useful later on.”

“If Miss Tomaz can get access to the database,” said Rip, pessimistically. “The technology here is a bit beyond what she’s used to.”

“She’ll get in.” 

Sara had the utmost confidence in Zari’s abilities, Time Master technology or not. Of course, whether there was actually any useful information to be had here was another matter entirely. She had assumed the Waverider already had access to all the Time Master’s knowledge, but according to Rip there was a lot of stuff the Time Council had kept from their captains, an entire private database in fact. One Rip had been unable to access on his own hence the use of Zari’s hacking abilities. Apparently like Rip, the Time Masters enjoyed keeping secrets.

Rip nodded in response to Sara’s comment but didn’t say anymore.

“Is there anything in particular that’s got you worried?” Sara asked, eyeing him closely. “This place looks pretty dead to me but you’re our expert on the Time Masters.”

“It’s just...” Rip began but then he shook his head. “No. Never mind. It’s nothing.” The inscrutable look returned to his face as he gazed out the window once more.

A feeling of frustration welled up in Sara, a common occurrence these days when dealing with Rip. She wished after all the time they had spent working together as a team, Rip would trust them, that he would open up, but instead he refused to put his faith in them and kept things to himself, often to the detriment of everyone involved. They had reconciled, somewhat, and were working together once again, but all the business with the Time Bureau and Damien Darhk’s resurrection and everything else that had passed between them had left a tension in the air that refused to dissipate. 

“Is there anything I should know about?” she asked, pointedly.

Rip’s forehead furrowed. “About what?”

“About the Time Masters, about the Vanishing Point, about Mallus. Anything else you might have conveniently forgotten to tell us.” She couldn’t help the accusatory tone that entered her voice. She was trying to move on. She was, but some things weren’t so easy to put behind you.

“Sara...” He said her name wearily, apparently as tired of their arguments as she was. “You know I’ve told you everything I can.”

Sara raised her eyebrows. “Do I? How do I know you haven’t got another secret you’re keeping from us, or another private agenda you’re working towards, or that you won’t go off on your own the moment we do something you disagree with?”

“How do I know you won’t throw me in prison in exchange for your freedom again?” Rip shot back.

The accusation stung, more so because of the truth behind it. Even if she hadn’t intended for him to end up in jail, that was still what had happened. Sara’s temper flared demanding she respond in kind, defend herself and rehash the old arguments all over again, but she grit her teeth and managed to hold her tongue. Now was not the time. She hated the idea of anymore of Rip’s secrets biting them in the ass, and one day, she vowed, she would sit him down and the two of them would have a very long chat, but not then, not when they were in the middle of a mission, not when they were busy staring at the graveyard of his former life.

“I’m going to check on Zari,” she said. “See if she’s made any progress.”

“Fine,” Rip replied, his focus returning to the remains of the Vanishing Point.

After giving him one last frustrated look, Sara turned away and made her way off the bridge. She strode through the corridors’ of the ship heading for the library, trying her best to shake off the anger as she did so and failing. One day, she promised herself, one day. 

She encountered Amaya heading in the same direction and the two nodded at each other as they fell into step.

“Has Zari managed to access the information?” Amaya asked.

“That’s what I’m going to find out,” said Sara. “Maybe then we can finally start making some progress.”

“So you think the database will have what we need?” 

“I hope so. According to Rip, the Time Masters had information on pretty much everything.”

“I suppose he would know.”

Sara let out a snort, a bitter huff of air. “There’s no telling what Rip does and does not know.”

Amaya raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Sara said with an apologetic wave of her hand. “Our resident ex-Time Master is just being cagey as usual.”

“Keeping things from fellow teammates rarely ends well,” observed Amaya, shaking her head.

“Especially when it comes to the things Rip likes to keep from us,” Sara added.

They were nearing the library by this point and the sound of an argument could be heard drifting down the corridor. Sara frowned, unsure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

“Come on. You can’t tell me you’re not curious,” Ray was saying, his voice filled with his usual enthusiasm.

It was Zari who replied. “I am but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

“It’s not a bad one either,” said Nate. “We might learn something important.”

“I don’t know,” Jax put in, uncertainly. “Maybe we should ask first. It is kind of an invasion of privacy.”

“Just do it,” said Mick, sounding bored with the whole thing. “It’s not like he wouldn’t do the same thing.”

Sara and Amaya exchanged bemused glances and entered the room.

The rest of the team, minus Rip, were all gathered in the library with Zari at centre stage in front of the large screen at the back of the room. Her hands were dancing across the screen’s surface as if conducting an orchestra while strings of data flew back and forth. The guys seemed more interested in their current argument though then what she was working on, Mick being the exception. He was leaning his back against a bookcase and seemed mainly interested in his beer.

“Please tell me you’ve actually got something,” Sara said announcing her presence.

The guys swung around, guilty looks on their faces except for Mick who calmly took another sip of his beer.

“Yeah, well, sort of,” said Ray, fidgeting nervously with his fingers. “I mean technically we have got into the database.”

“You mean I’ve got in,” Zari corrected without pausing in her work.

“Zari’s got in,” Ray obediently repeated.

“With some help,” a voice pointed out from above.

“Zari and Gideon have got in,” said Ray, correcting himself once again.

“But we haven’t found anything on Mallus yet,” explained Nate. “Zari thinks it might be in some sort of deeper level hidden under more encryption.”

Sara stared at them, her gaze going from one face to another. You didn’t captain this team without developing an instinct for this sort of thing. There was something they weren’t telling her. 

It seemed Amaya was sensing the same thing. “Then what were you arguing about?” 

Ray, Nate, and Jax exchanged looks.

“Well?” said Sara, glaring at them as she waited for someone to crack.

Jax sighed, shoulders slumping. “They want to look at Rip’s file.”

Confused, Sara frowned. “File? What file?”

“There’s files on all the Time Masters,” said Zari, and with a flick of a finger, she brought up a long list of names on the screen. “Standard personnel files I’d guess.”

“I just thought we could take a quick peek,” said Ray. “Rip’s told us so little about his past. Wouldn’t you like to know more about what sort of adventures he went on as a Time Master?”

“Or what other secrets he might be keeping from us,” added Nate.

Ray held up a finger. “Now I didn’t say that. Rip—”

“Kept a piece of an extremely dangerous object on the ship without ever actually telling you about it?” Nate finished for him.

“Yeah,” Ray conceded, “but—”

“Not to mention an entire armoury.”

“Admittedly, but—”

“And then there’s the whole Time Bureau thing.”

“Ok, so maybe Rip does tend to keep a lot of secrets,” Ray conceded.

“I just don’t think we should be going behind Rip’s back like this,” said Jax. “I mean is he a part of the team or not?”

“It’s not like we’re looking at his medical file,” said Ray, and then he frowned, “or is it?”

Mick snorted. “You do know the Englishman’s looked at files on all of us at some point.”

Sara grimaced. She hated to say it but Mick had a good point. They all had good points. 

“Zari, what do you think?”

Zari shrugged. “Seems a bit invasive to me, but hey, he’s your friend. I barely know the guy.”

Some days it felt like Sara barely knew Rip either. There was so much he had never told them.

“If there is something in Hunter's past he's keeping from us...” said Amaya.

“I know,” said Sara.

She took a deep breath. These sort of command decisions were something she had grown used to upon becoming captain but that didn’t make them easy. This was what she had wanted though, wasn’t it? Access to Rip’s secrets. But could she justify going behind his back and going through something potentially very personal without telling him? If she did tell him though, he'd probably refuse to let them to see the file, even delete it. She was so sick of Rip and his secrets. Whatever else she had to make protecting her crew the priority, and if Rip was still holding back on them, if there was something in that file that could potentially harm them later on... 

And you’re not just doing it because you’re still bitter about the Time Bureau and the fact he won’t fully trust you, said a voice at the back of her head, but she quickly squashed it.

“Let’s see the file,” she said, hoping she was making the right decision.

Zari tapped the screen and new information appeared in front of them. Everyone moved closer, even those who had been against reading the file.

A large photo of Rip took over a large part of the screen, a photo of a much younger Rip looking very serious in a drab grey uniform. Beside it were listed his name, rank, serial number, and ship along with some basic statistics: eye colour, hair colour, skin colour, height, weight.

“Ha,” commented Mick upon reading through them. “He’s so teensy-weensy.”

The file also gave Rip’s birth name. Something none of them had ever seen in full.

“Michael Theodore Carter?” Nate said in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“No wonder he changed it,” said Ray.

“Yeah, Rip Hunter is so much cooler,” Nate agreed.

Zari rolled her eyes.

So far all the information seemed pretty tame to Sara. Maybe Zari had been right in saying it was simply a standard personnel file. No age was given among the stats but Sara supposed that sort of thing was difficult to pin down for a time traveller. There were, however, several things listed she couldn’t make sense of. Some of which looked like just random strings of numbers. It said Rip belonged to refuge number 82 which she supposed must mean the place where he had grown up with all the other baby Time Masters, but she didn’t understand why it listed his origin as London, England, February 7, 1836. Did that mean...

“Hey!” exclaimed Ray, interrupting her thoughts. His eyes were on a different section of the file, one Sara hadn't got to yet. “Did you guys know Rip graduated second in his class? He even has honours in mechanics and temporal physics.”

“You didn’t tell me he was some sort of genius,” said Zari.

Ray shrugged. “I didn’t know. I mean I knew he was smart. I just didn’t realize he was that smart.”

“He did teach me most of what I know about fixing the ship,” said Jax. “I think he even wrote some of the instruction manual himself.”

Sara’s eyebrows rose in surprise. This was not the sort of secret she had expected to find. She wondered why Rip would feel the need to hide such a thing.

Zari scrolled down the file revealing more information.

Nate let out a whistle. “He went on 497 missions? Man. It's going to take ages to go through all of those.” He leaned closer. “Hey, is that a list of medals?” He touched the screen and a list popped up.

It was indeed a list of medals, a fairly long list. There were multiple honours along with commendations for distinguished service and medals for bravery.

“Impressive,” said Amaya as she read through the list.

“Do you think he keeps them in a drawer somewhere?” asked Jax, curiosity apparently getting the best of him.

“Do you think he’ll let us see them?” asked Ray.

“Why would you want to see a bunch of stupid ribbons?” said Mick. “This is what I want to see.” Shoving forward, he reached over and tapped the screen, hitting something Sara hadn’t noticed before.

Another list popped up, but instead of commendations, this one contained reprimands, and it was even longer than the previous one. 

“Now that’s more like it,” said Mick. “I knew that idiot wasn’t the goody two-shoes he pretends to be.”

Rip had been reprimanded for a lot of things including not following proper procedures, failing to report back after a mission, and taking undue risks. He had even faced a disciplinary hearing. 

“What the hell?” said Zari as she expanded the file on the hearing. “It says Rip faced a tribunal for conducting an illicit affair. The charges were only dismissed when the other person resigned.” She gazed at the others in disbelief. “He was almost discharged for having a relationship? I mean, seriously?”

“It’s not that unusual for a military organization to have rules against fraternization,” said Amaya, clearly recalling her time with the JSA. “Not so long ago I probably would have even agreed with them.”

Zari made a face. “So if you happen to fall in love, you’re just supposed to what? Ignore it?”

Mick shrugged. “The Time Masters didn’t want their minions getting attached to anyone, thought it would get in the way of them of being cold-hearted bastards.”

Such insight from Mick was unusual but not too surprising considering of all of them he would be the one to know. His time as Chronus meant he knew a lot more about the Time Masters than the rest of them even if the brainwashing had left that information a little sketchy.

“They really are bastards,” said Zari.

A suspicion had been niggling at the back of Sara’s mind ever since Zari had brought up the tribunal and she finally put a voice to it. “Who was the person Rip was having an affair with?” 

“Uh...” Zari turned back to the screen. “A lieutenant Miranda Coburn.”

Ray’s eyebrows drew together in a troubled frown. “Miranda as in Rip’s dead wife Miranda?”

“Exactly,” Sara said with a sigh. 

The frustration she had felt at Rip earlier was gone leaving her empty. She was starting to regret her decision to look at the file, and from the looks on the others' faces, they were too. Suddenly, this wasn’t so fun anymore.

Only Nate seemed to be still interested. “Hey, what’s that?” he asked pointing at something on the screen. “It says Intake.”

Following his finger, Zari said, “I’m not sure. It looks like some sort of video attached to the main file.”

“Let’s watch it,” suggested Nate.

“Nate, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea...” began Ray but the other man had already reached up and tapped the screen.

Nothing happened at first, and for a moment, Sara thought it hadn’t worked, then an image appeared filling the entire screen.

The video was of a man, or at least, that was all they could see in the first frame. He was standing close to the camera so they couldn’t see past him leaving where and when the video had been taken impossible to guess. The man’s hair was white matching the white uniform he wore and the white gloves covering his hands. A doctor, thought Sara, and she was proven right a second later when the video began and the man spoke.

“This Dr. Nicolas Moreno doing the intake for potential initiate number 98623. I will be performing a physical exam along with a psychological assessment and mental acuity test to determine subject suitability. For information on the retrieval mission and all those involved please consult attached file.”

The words were said in one long drone, the doctor seeming more interested in the tablet in his hands than the camera as if he had done this a hundred times before and would rather be elsewhere. He gazed down at the tablet a moment longer before he continued. 

“Right,” he said as he looked up, “let’s get on with it, shall we?” 

Stepping back, he finally let the Legends see behind him.

It was a small room the man was currently occupying, sterile and bare with metal walls. The only bit of furniture was a reclining examination chair in one corner, a chair very similar to the ones found in the Waverider’s medbay. Based on the various bits of equipment surrounding it, Sara guessed it had a similar use.

What drew the team’s attention though, what made the breath catch in their throats were the three other people in the room. 

Two of them were Time Master troopers easily recognizable by their round helmets, black jackets, and white pants. Laser rifles were strapped to their thighs and the visors of their helmets were down leaving them faceless. 

The third person was tiny in comparison, unsurprising because he was only a boy. He stood between the troopers, or rather was held up by them. They both had firm grips on his arms as he hung from their hands, head lolling forward.

“My god,” said Ray, the words escaping like a breath.

Jax’s eyes grew wide with shock. “Rip.”

“You’re serious? That boy’s Rip?” said Nate, pointing at the screen.

Sara swallowed, slow and hard. “Yeah, that’s Rip.”

She didn’t blame Nate for not recognizing him. She wouldn’t have either if she hadn’t come across Rip’s ten-year-old self previously. This Rip seemed slightly younger and, unbelievably considering how tiny the ten-year-old had been, even thinner though it was hard to tell for sure with all the layers of ragged clothing wrapped around him. He was also a lot dirtier. Dark streaks of what may have been soot marred his complexion and his normally strawberry blond hair was a dark brown and matted into greasy strands.

As they watched, Dr. Moreno approached Rip. He took the boy’s chin in his hand and moved his head back and forth, inspecting Rip’s features as if he were a used car the doctor was considering buying. 

To Sara's surprise, she saw Rip’s eyes were actually open. From the slack way he hung in the trooper’s grips, she had assumed he was unconscious. It made little difference though as awake or not he seemed completely unaware of his surroundings, the glassy, unfocused look in his eyes a sign he had been thoroughly drugged. 

Dr. Moreno let Rip go and made a note on his tablet. “The initiate appears to be approximately eight years of age, perhaps nine. Due to what appears to be prolonged malnutrition, development has most likely been delayed so he may be older.”

The doctor pulled out a device the size of a mobile phone from his pocket and held it in front of Rip. A blue light emitted scanning the boy from head to toe. Gazing at the device, the doctor grimaced.

“Health is exceptionally poor. Along with wasting and stunted growth, the malnutrition has left the initiate suffering from the consequences of several vitamin and mineral deficiencies. He also has a compromised immune system and appears to have the beginnings of pneumonia. Based on the scarring in his lungs, it’s likely not the first time.”

Dr. Moreno looked up from the device to gaze at Rip with an expression of disgust.

“There is also an infestation of mites.” He put the device back in his pocket. “Fortunately, that and the pneumonia can be easily dealt with. The malnutrition will take a bit longer, but I predict a full recovery with no detriments which would affect his future performance.”

Watching the video, Sara didn’t know what to feel, shock at learning just how bad things had been for Rip as a child or anger at the doctor for treating Rip as if he were less than human. When she glanced at the rest of the team, she saw similar emotions on all their faces.

Nate was staring with wide-eyed disbelief, his jaw completely slack.

Ray was appalled, his downturned eyes filled with sorrow.

Zari’s expression was hard but she didn’t seem shocked by what she was seeing. Given the nature of the future she came from, Sara supposed seeing someone in Rip’s state might not be so unusual for her.

Jax was gazing at the screen in anguish. He looked like he wanted to jump in and save Rip regardless of how long ago the video had been made or how ridiculous the notion.

Amaya most likely would have happily joined him. There was a fury in her eyes that was rarely seen outside of battle. 

Mick was angry too but in a quiet way which was unusual for him, and as Sara knew, all the more dangerous. His jaw was clenched tightly and the knuckles of the hand wrapped around his beer bottle had gone completely white.

In the video, Dr. Moreno continued speaking. “Given the initiate was found living on the streets in 19th century London, his poor condition is unsurprising though the fact he was able to survive on his own at such a young age shows a certain amount of resourcefulness which could be an asset.”

“Wait!” exclaimed Nate. “Rip’s from the past? I thought he was from the future.”

“He is,” said Jax, frowning. “I mean he said he is. Maybe he wasn’t from there originally.”

Putting a finger to her lips, Zari shushed them.

“He has also demonstrated a remarkably high intelligence,” Dr. Moreno was saying as he consulted his tablet once more. “Despite the low levels of literacy during his era, he can actually read and the agents who retrieved him believe he is self-taught. Of course, a full intellectual assessment still must be made, and due to his living in such a primitive time period, an intensive level of study will be needed to bring his knowledge up to necessary standards, but he does show some promise. Hopefully, we won’t find ourselves wasting our time once again.”

Sara’s anger rose even higher. All the doctor seemed to care about the poor starving child in front of him was how useful he would be to the Time Masters. Had they all been like that? The Time Masters might have saved Rip’s life but it was clearly for their own good and not his. If Sara were in the same room as the doctor, she would have happily strangled him. A particularly vicious part of her mind hoped he had died when they blew up the Occulus.

“As for the consequences of his removal,” said Dr. Moreno, “all information gathered indicates he is an orphan without any significant attachments. He will not be missed, and based on his current state, I doubt he would have survived another month, so there should be no effects on the timeline.”

Eight-years-old and starving to death with no one to even care if you died. Sara couldn’t even imagine what that would have been like.

The doctor put his tablet away and turned to look expectantly at the troopers.

“Well, get on with it.”

The troopers exchanged glances through their helmets.

“Strip him and clean him up so I can begin my work,” Dr. Moreno explained impatiently. “I really wish you would do it before bringing the initiates here. It would save time, not to mention save me from the smell,” he added wrinkling his nose at Rip.

The troopers began removing Rip’s clothes, one unwinding a scarf from his neck, the other taking off one of what looked like several coats.

“I wish they would stop sending me such wretched specimens,” the doctor said with distaste while the troopers worked. “If they at least took them from eras that weren’t so primitive, then—”

Sara knew what was going to happen a second before it did. It was a tiny movement, a shift in posture so minuscule most people wouldn’t have noticed it, but Sara had been trained by the League of Assassins. She could read body language almost as well as she could read English. Not only did her eyes catch the shift, but she immediately knew what it meant.

The doctor and the troopers, on the other hand, were completely taken by surprise.

One moment Rip was limp beneath the troopers hands, the next he had wrenched himself free, dropping his weight to the floor and rolling away. Before they even had a chance to react, he was on his feet again, facing them with a knife in his hand.

“Damn it!” Dr. Moreno glared at the troopers. “What happened to the tranquilizer you were supposed to give him?”

The trooper on the left swallowed nervously. “We only gave him a half dose,” he said, sounding younger than Sara had expected. “The kid was coughing earlier and Time Master Druce was worried that—”

“Didn’t you at least check for weapons?”

The other trooper responded this time, a woman judging by her voice. “Uh... We didn’t think... That is to say...”

Sara understood. After all, who would think a poor, scrawny eight-year-old would be dangerous. They didn’t know what Sara did. That it was often the poor and beaten down, the ones who had spent most of their lives fighting for survival who were the most dangerous.

“Imbeciles,” said Dr. Moreno, vehemently.

Rip watched the exchange warily, head whipping back and forth, knife held tightly in his grip. 

“Well, don’t just stand there,” the doctor ordered the troopers. “Grab him so I can administer another dose.”

The troopers approached Rip slowly and cautiously.

The boy took a step back lifting his knife higher.

“Easy now,” said the male trooper, holding up his hands and speaking as if he were trying to calm a frightened horse. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

While he was talking, the other trooper made a grab for Rip’s arm. 

Rip dodged out of the way, slashing out with the knife as he did so. The blade looked old and rusty, but he clearly knew how to use it and it came very close to meeting its mark.

The trooper snatched her arm back.

“Don’t you touch me!” Rip’s voice and expression were defiant but Sara could see fear flickering in his eyes.

“Listen,” said the male trooper. “Everything’s going to be alright. If you’ll just...” He took another step forward but Rip quickly backed away once again.

“Where am I?” he demanded. “What do you want with me?”

“This is a safe place,” insisted the female trooper. “We’re trying to help you. Now, if you just give us the knife...”

The male trooper reached for the knife but Rip slashed forward with the blade again and this time metal met flesh.

“Shit!” cried the trooper, grabbing his arm.

“Ha,” Mick exclaimed.

Sara’s lips curled upward in a brief moment of satisfaction. It was good to see the Time Master get some of what was coming to him. She and the others Legends were watching the video completely rapt, unable to look away as the scene unfolded before them.

“Imbeciles!” the doctor cried again. “He’s only a small boy and a sick one at that. Just grab him.”

Eyes never leaving the troopers, Rip took another step back. His thin shoulders were rising and falling heavily as he breathed and a brief series of coughs shook his small frame.

He didn’t have a chance against the troopers and he knew it.

Turning around, Rip raced for the back of the room and the outline of a door on the far wall. When he was near enough, he reached forward, hands scrabbling desperately across its surface.

Sara’s heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time that day. A doorknob. Rip was from the 19th century. He was searching for a doorknob. There was a switch on the wall beside the door but he didn’t even try to reach for it. His ticket to freedom was there and he didn’t even know it.

Giving up on his search, Rip stuck his fingers into the crack of the door and tried to prise it open. When that didn’t work, he resorted to pounding against it, his small fists barely even making any noise.

It wasn’t long before the troopers were on him. Working together this time, they grabbed him both at once.

“No!” Rip cried. 

The knife clattered to the floor as one of the troopers twisted his arm, but he continued to fight, fists and feet striking out at random. It didn’t make any difference though. Despite several blows striking home, the troopers refused to let go and soon had a solid grip on his arms and legs.

“Let go!” Rip screamed, his voice shrill and full of panic. “Let me go!”

Sara felt sick as the sound of Rip’s helpless cries echoed in her ears. Tears glistened on Ray’s face. Jax closed his eyes unable to watch anymore, and Amaya and Zari reached out, arms wrapping around each other. Mick’s beer bottle shattered in his hand but he barely even noticed.

Dr. Moreno approached Rip, a syringe in his hand. “Hold him still.”

Rip wriggled and writhed in the troopers’ grips but it did no good. He was able to let out one last cry of ‘no’ before the doctor injected him.

The tranquilizer worked quickly. In a matter of moments, Rip’s body became limp once more and his eyes half-lidded.

“I hope that teaches you to be more careful in future,” Dr. Moreno told the troopers. “You never know what these little degenerates might do.”

Strangling was too good for him, Sara decided, getting blown up too. Dr. Moreno deserved to die slowly and painfully.

“Now we’re going to have to do a thorough memory wipe on top of everything else.” The doctor rubbed his forehead gazing down at Rip in annoyance. The troopers were already working on removing the boy’s clothing once more. “Hurry up. We’ve already wasted enough time as it is. Of all the... I must have a word with the council about the current selection of initiates. Standards have clearly...” he trailed off, and as if suddenly recalling that he was being recorded, glanced towards the camera. 

He cleared his throat and straightened his uniform. “As you can see, the initiate does have a temper, but perhaps with the proper influences, we can make use of it, find ways to use it to our advantage. Further tests should—”

Dr. Moreno was suddenly cut off as the video vanished leaving behind a blank screen.

It took a moment for the team to react, their hearts and minds still caught up in what they had been witnessing.

“What happened?” asked Sara, blinking in surprise.

Zari tapped the screen but it remained blank. Her forehead creased. “The whole screen’s gone dead.”

Pulling himself together with some effort, Jax retrieved one of the handheld devices that let him interface with the ship’s systems. “Uh, diagnostics show the screen’s still working,” he said as he checked through things. “It’s just been turned off.”

“But who could have turned it off?” asked Nate. “None of us did it, did we?”

Mick let out a snort.

Zari rolled her eyes. “How could we have turned it off without touching anything?”

Nate shrugged. “Telepathy?”

“It wasn’t telepathy,” said Jax as he looked up from the interface. “The command came directly from Gideon.”

The team exchanged looks.

“Why would Gideon turn the screen off?” asked Amaya.

“Gideon?” said Sara, gazing expectantly up at the ceiling.

There was no reply.

“Is she mad at us again?” Ray asked, worriedly. “I guess I can understand if she didn’t like us invading Rip’s privacy, but then why did she let us access the file in the first place? Why did she turn the video off now?”

There was a prickly sensation on the back of Sara’s neck, another remnant of her assassin training. A cold realization washed over her. She had a pretty good idea why Gideon had turned off the video.

With a horrible sinking feeling, she slowly turned around.

Behind them standing in the doorway to the library was Rip.

“Crap,” said Mick, speaking for all of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the lovely comments on the last chapter. This would have been out sooner but I wanted to make sure it was perfect for all of you. I hope you enjoy it!

Sara took a step towards their former captain. “Rip, I...” She trailed off as she tried to find the right words to explain what they had been caught doing, or more importantly why. “Listen, we found this file and there was this video attached. I know we probably shouldn’t have watched it but...” She trailed off again, unable to find a decent excuse. How did you excuse wilfully watching a video of someone at their most vulnerable? It wasn’t as if they had known what the video would contain, but they had known it would likely be something fairly personal, and they hadn’t exactly stopped watching when they saw what it was about.

She braced herself for a tirade, for expletives and accusations, but none came. It was then she noticed Rip wasn’t actually looking at her. He wasn’t looking at any of them. His gaze was directed past them, fixed upon the now blank screen.

“Rip?” said Sara, eyes narrowing in concern.

Rip stood in the doorway, frozen and pale, paler than Sara had ever seen him. One hand clutched tightly to the doorframe as if he were using it to hold himself up.

“Rip, are you okay?” asked Ray. He began moving towards Rip, but Sara held out an arm to block his path, stopping him from going any further.

How long had Rip been standing there? Sara wondered. How much had he seen?

“Rip,” she called out again.

There was no answer. Rip continued to stare at the screen as if mesmerized. 

The memory wipe, Sara suddenly realized. God, the Time Masters had wiped Rip’s memory of everything they had just witnessed. He didn’t remember any of it.

She walked slowly towards him, careful not to make any sudden movements. 

“Rip,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Rip?”

There was still no response.

As she drew closer, Sara noticed a wheezy raggedness to his breathing. It sounded as if he were on the edge of a panic attack. When she was near enough, she reached out and gently laid a hand on his arm.

Rip flinched away, but thankfully his eyes finally left the screen and focused on her. “Sara?”

Sara nodded. “Yeah. You alright?”

His brow furrowed. “Uh, I just...,” he began uncertainly as if not so sure himself, “I just came down to see... to see if you’d gotten through to the database.” His gaze drifted back to the screen. “That video...” There was a lost look in his eyes, and for a moment, he looked as vulnerable as the boy in the video. “What was...? Was that...?”

Sara swallowed. When she had gone looking for Rip’s secrets, she hadn’t imagined having to reveal some of them to Rip himself.

“We found a file on you in the Time Masters' database,” she explained. “It seems to be mostly a basic personnel file, but there was—”

“You found a file about me?” Rip’s voice grew sharp and some of the usual fire returned to his eyes. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

It was Ray who replied, babbling nervously. “We wanted to take a quick peek before we told you about it. We were curious. We didn’t think there’d be anything, you know...” He trailed off wincing. “Hey, second in your class that’s pretty awesome,” he added with a strained grin. Turning his head, he sent a pleading glance at Nate.

“Yeah,” Nate quickly put in, “and all those missions and medals and stuff. I’d really love to hear more about them sometime. We were expecting to find all sorts of crap on you, not, um... What was it like growing up in the 19th century? That must have been—”

“Nathaniel,” Amaya said, wearily. “Please, shut up.”

Thankfully, Nate obeyed, clamping his mouth shut and grimacing.

Rip’s gaze swept across the Legends. They shifted uncomfortably in response. “You read through my file? All of you?”

“Just a little bit,” Ray insisted, demonstrating an appropriately tiny space between his thumb and forefinger. 

Rip turned away, running a hand through his hair as he paced across the room. 

“The file was with a bunch of other personnel files,” explained Zari. “We found it by accident. We didn’t think...” She trailed off wincing, clearly regretting having ever discovered the thing.

“So you thought you’d just invade my privacy for your own amusement?” The snort Rip let out was sharp and bitter. 

“I’m really sorry, Rip,” said Jax, genuinely remorseful.

“We all are,” said Amaya.

Rip didn’t say anything, just continued to pace back and forth, head bowed.

“But hey,” Jax added, “all the stuff in that file, it’s not a big deal. We don’t care where you came from or what happened to you. You’re still you.”

Rip remained silent, but the rigidness in his jaw and the way he held his arms crossed tightly over his chest showed the statement had done little to calm him.

“Don’t blame them,” said Sara, intending to take full responsibility and draw all Rip’s ire her way. “I’m the one who made the decision to look at the file. If you want to blame someone, blame me.”

Rip took the bait, swinging towards her, eyes blazing. “And what gave you the right?” he demanded.

“I was trying to gather information for the benefit of the team,” Sara replied, defensively. “I know you like to keep your past private, but given the number of times you’ve hidden stuff from us, I needed to know—”

“Then what was that?” Rip flung a hand at the screen. “That... that video.” He paused shaking his head. “Was that something you needed to know? What the hell were you watching?!” His voice rose to a yell, reverberating throughout the room, but it was tinged more with distress than anger.

“Rip...” Sara began, unsure what to say.

Rip closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. “What was that?” he repeated in a much quieter tone.

The team exchanged glances, no one wanting to be the one to tell him.

Reluctantly, Sara opened her mouth to explain, but Zari beat her to it.

“The video was attached to your file,” she said, matter-of-factly though her tone was softened with sympathy. “It shows a doctor running tests on you when you were a kid. You were tranquilized at the time and at one point the tranquilizer ran out and...” There was no need to say more. Judging from his reaction, Rip had seen exactly what had happened next. “My guess,” she continued, “is that it was part of some initial screening process to see if the kids the Time Masters’ took were suitable or not.”

“Tests? What tests?” said Rip, the lines on his forehead deepening. “And I wasn’t taken. I was... recruited.”

Kidnapped, more likely, thought Sara. Based on what they’d just seen, it didn’t look like Rip had gone willingly.

Mick let out a snort. “Hell of a blind spot you’ve got there, English.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Rip, turning towards him.

“Face it. The Time Masters were bastards, completely and utterly. I wouldn’t put anything past them.”

“But they didn’t...” Rip blinked several times and shook his head. “They wouldn’t...”

“They fucked you up so bad you can’t even see it.” Mick’s statement was blunt but there was a hint of sadness in his voice, the image of Rip’s terrified younger self undoubtedly still vivid in his mind like it was in Sara's.

The lost look returned to Rip’s eyes and his gaze was drawn once more to the blank screen on the far wall. “But it never happened,” he said though there was growing uncertainty in his voice. “I don’t... I don’t remember...”

“They wiped your memory,” Sara said gently, drawing closer to him. 

“But why? I don’t understand.”

“Probably so you’d be more cooperative and willing to buy in to what they were selling. I guess they thought all that testing wouldn’t leave a very good impression, especially considering the way they went about it. I bet that’s why you were tranquilized too.”

Various emotions warred on Rip’s face as if he still couldn’t quite process what he had just learned.

“It would have also been pretty traumatizing for a kid from the 19th century,” Sara continued. “We all saw what happened when—”

Rip shot her a look and Sara immediately stopped talking. She had gone too far. She didn’t know if it was the reminder of what had happened in the video or the fact the entire team had seen it, but Rip had clearly had enough.

Head bowed, Rip ran his hands across his face. There was a slight tremor in his fingers and the raggedness had returned to his breathing.

The team gazed at him with mixtures of pity and sympathy but that only seemed to make things worse.

Avoiding their gazes, Rip began backing towards the exit. “I... I have to go.”

“Rip, wait,” said Sara.

Rip turned to leave but Sara reached out and grabbed his arm stopping him. 

The moment her fingers wrapped around his wrist she knew it had been a mistake.

Panic lit Rip’s eyes as he swung back around. Suddenly, he looked exactly like he had in the video, a terrified little boy, trapped and helpless.

Sara let go.

Rip quickly fled out the door, not looking back.

The team watched dumbly as he left.

“What have we done?” said Amaya, once they had gotten over their shock.

“I’d say we fucked up,” Zari observed sarcastically.

“Majorly,” agreed Nate with a nod.

“It was the Time Bastards who fucked up,” said Mick. “They fucked up Rip just like they fuck up everything. We should go back and blow them up all over again.”

It was a ridiculous notion but for a moment Sara was tempted to do just that.

Ray began heading for the door Rip had just exited. “I’m going to go after him, make sure he’s okay.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Jax, joining him.

Sara held up her hands palm out stopping both of them in their tracks. “No, I’ll go. I’m the captain.” It was her responsibility, and she suspected dealing with Rip in his current state was going to require a delicacy she wasn’t sure the rest of the team were capable of.

Jax and Ray looked upset, clearly wanting to help in some way, but thankfully, they didn’t argue.

Sara gestured to the blank screen. “Get back to doing what we were supposed to be doing in the first place and find that information on Mallus. Maybe then this whole mission won’t be a complete disaster.” That said, she stepped out of the library leaving the rest of the team behind. 

It was only after taking several steps down the corridor that Sara realized she had another problem. She had been so focused on how she was going to fix the mess they'd made, she had completely missed the obstacle in her path.

She had no idea where Rip had gone. He could be anywhere in the ship, and if she didn’t want to waste time searching the entire place, there was only one way to find him.

Sara drew to a stop and lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “Gideon?”

“Yes, Captain?” inquired the A.I., a sharpness to her normally pleasant tone.

Sara’s lips pulled back in a grimace. “I need to know where Rip is,” she said, hoping her status as captain would still carry weight under the circumstances.

“Yes, Captain,” Gideon repeated, unhelpfully.

Sara rolled her eyes. It seemed Gideon’s bond with Rip still trumped everything. “I understand if you’re mad at us.”

“Yes, Captain,” Gideon said for the third time.

Apparently, the A.I. wasn’t going to make this easy.

“I know we invaded Rip’s privacy. I know he’s upset, but believe me I never meant to do anything to hurt him.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The question took Sara by surprise. Had she wanted to hurt Rip? She wondered. Had she made the decision to look at the file solely for the good of the team or had she done it because she was still angry at Rip for breaking her trust and had wanted to get back at him, wanted to level the playing field after he had kept so many things from her? Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure.

“I’m sorry, Gideon,” she said with a sigh. “I messed up.”

“Yes, you did,” agreed Gideon.

You knew you had really messed up when an A.I. chastised you, Sara thought with bitter humour.

Something suddenly occurred to her. She narrowed her eyes at the ceiling. “You could have stopped us accessing the file. You could have prevented this whole thing from happening in the first place. Why didn’t you?”

A few seconds passed before Gideon replied. “While I care for Director Hunter a great deal,” she said, “I don’t agree with his persistent tendency to keep secrets anymore than you do. I thought you could benefit from getting to know him better, that the information in the file might help you understand him.” Her tone became accusing as she added, “I also assumed you would not do anything which could potentially harm him.”

Sara winced.

“Unfortunately, I did not anticipate Director Hunter coming upon you while you were going through the file,” Gideon continued, her voice growing softer and becoming tinged with guilt. “Nor did I anticipate his reaction upon seeing the video.” 

The guilt was something Sara could relate to. “It’s not your fault, Gideon,” she said, shaking her head. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I know what kind of demons Rip has in his past. I should have known bringing them forth would have negative consequences. We both should have.”

“You’re right,” Sara agreed, “which is why I need to talk to him. I need to make this right somehow.”

There was a moment of silence, then finally, Gideon said, “Director Hunter is in the cargo bay.”

Sara let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Gideon.” 

She headed into the depths of the ship, to the very back where the cargo bay was located. Her steps became slower and more hesitant as she drew nearer, but never one to run from things, she persisted on. She almost regretted it though when she finally found Rip, a new wave of guilt crashing over her at the sight of him.

Rip sat on one of the large cargo crates, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands as he gazed at the floor. His face was still too pale and his eyes held the same lost look they had before.

Swallowing, Sara stepped into the room. Fighting off an army dosed with Mirakuru and trained by the League of Assassins seemed immensely preferable than what she was about to do. She had never been great at admitting when she had made a mistake and she had never really enjoyed talking about feelings either especially her own. Being a Legend though had taught her there was more to being a member of a team than just having each other’s back in the middle of a fight, especially when you were the captain.

Sara walked over and sat down beside Rip on the crate.

Rip’s eyes briefly flickered in her direction before returning to the floor.

“You okay?” she asked, and then immediately cursed herself. “Sorry. Stupid question.”

Rip remained silent.

Sara wanted to press him to speak, get this over with quickly, but instead she forced herself to be patient and sat quietly beside Rip as he gathered himself.

Finally, after several long minutes had passed, Rip took a deep breath and straightened up releasing his head from his hands.

“You want to know what I was thinking about earlier while I was looking out that window?” he asked. His gaze continued to avoid Sara’s, eyes fixed on the far wall.

The question surprised her. Rip’s willingness to open up surprising her more than anything else. She said nothing, afraid she would somehow ruin the moment and make him clam up again.

“I was thinking,” Rip continued, “that revisiting my past was a very, very bad idea.” He let out a snort, a broken, bitter noise. “It may seem ironic for a time traveller, but my past is something I generally tend to avoid. All my life I’ve tried to put things behind me, to move on and forget, and yet my past still haunts me.”

“Like today,” Sara said, quietly.

Rip nodded, a tiny jerky movement. “After what happened with Savage, I knew there were things about the Time Masters I didn’t know, that they’d kept hidden from me, but this...” He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. “Sometimes it feels like my whole life is held together by fragile threads, and if I tug at them, everything will simply fall apart.” 

There was a tremor both in Rip’s voice and in his hands which rubbed restlessly across his thighs. Sara recalled how he had stood frozen in the doorway to the library, unresponsive, eyes unable to leave the place where his past had been on display. 

“That video...” she began tentatively, knowing she was stepping on dangerous ground. She had no right to pry especially not after what she had done, but she had a feeling this was a secret Rip needed to share for his own sake. “How much did you see?”

It was a while before Rip replied, so long Sara began to think he wasn’t going to, but after a minute or two of silence, he said, “From when the boy, I mean from when I broke free from the troopers.” He paused for a second swallowing. “I didn’t realize what it was at first. I didn’t even recognize myself but then...” He stopped, hands tightening into fists.

“So you don’t remember any of that?”

Rip shook his head. “Not really. I recall running into the Time Masters that first time when I was still... living on the streets.” 

The last bit was said reluctantly. It was the part of Rip's life he avoided talking about the most, and after seeing the effects of that life, Sara couldn’t blame him.

“There were two of them, a man and a woman.” Rip frowned. “I don’t really remember what they looked like, but I remember thinking there was something off about them. Mainly though, I was thinking they’d be an easy mark.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh, picked one of their pockets believe it or not, stole a remote tracking device.”

Sara gave a tiny smile. “Seems like your sort of luck.”

“Yes, well,” Rip continued, “I almost got away with it, but one of them spotted me. They gave chase and I got away, but they eventually tracked me down, and then... the next thing I remember is waking up at the Refuge, Mother standing over me. They must have grabbed me and taken me to Vanishing Point where they did those tests and... and whatever else they might have done before erasing my memory and dropping me off.”

His hands wrung together and then rubbed across his legs once more. On impulse, Sara grabbed the hand closest to her and held it. She wasn’t sure how he would react, but he just squeezed her hand and continued talking.

“The thing is I used to get these horrible nightmares. They started shortly after I came to the Refuge. In them, I would be trapped, held down, unable to move as people...” He trailed off and swallowed again. “I guess some of what happened must have stayed in my subconscious or maybe the memory erasure wasn’t a hundred percent effective. The nightmares did stop eventually. I’d almost forgotten about them but seeing the video...”

“It brought it all back,” Sara finished for him.

Rip nodded. Tears glistened in his eyes. “It was like the video opened a door in my mind and all these memories came flooding in, memories and a feeling of absolute terror as if I were—”

He stopped, and if suddenly recalling himself, let go of Sara’s hand and straightened up. 

“God,” he exclaimed, letting out a sniff and wiping his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” Sara said, softly. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be apologizing right now, not you.”

“It’s just ridiculous,” said Rip, “getting upset over something that happened when I was a child.”

“An extremely traumatic event that you never had the chance to deal with and that you just got to relive,” Sara pointed out.

Rip flung a hand in the air. “But I’ve been through much worse since then. I’ve narrowly escaped death on countless occasions, lost my wife and son, had my brain fried, my personality rewritten, was forced to do unspeakable things against my will, but this... One reminder and I can’t seem to stop shaking.” The tremors were evident as he ran his fingers through his short hair.

“This isn’t a competition,” said Sara. “There’s no measuring scale for trauma to determine how bad something is. We don’t get to choose how things might effect us or what memories haunt us at night.”

Rip snorted. “Things would be a hell of a lot easier if we could.”

Sara could certainly agree with that. There were quite a few memories she wished she could escape. She normally didn’t like talking about her past either, at least not certain parts of it, but if Rip was willing to open up for once... 

“In my case,” she said, “you’d think I’d be bothered by what I did with the League more than anything or what happened when I died, but you know what haunts me the most?”

“What?” Rip asked, tiredly.

“The ocean.”

Rip frowned. “From when Queen’s Gambit went down?”

Sara nodded. “Since then I’ve absolutely hated the sight of open water. Even after everything I’ve been through I still get nightmares about drifting out there alone on that wreckage. I will happily face down an army of zombies or a ten-foot-tall metahuman who spits acid but try getting me on a boat and...” 

Helpless and alone with only the endless sky and the endless sea as company. Unwanted images swam to the forefront of Sara’s mind, but with an effort, she pushed them back down.

“I think we could use a drink,” she declared.

“God, yes,” Rip agreed. 

Sara stood up and gestured towards the exit. “Do you want to go up to the parlour?”

“No need.” Rip nodded his head towards the back of the cargo bay. “Second panel up from the floor.”

Confused, Sara went over and knelt down beside the panel.

“Slide your fingers along the groove at the top until you find a switch,” Rip instructed, “then move it to the left and lift the panel up and out.”

Sara obeyed. The panel was a bit stiff but it came off the wall just like Rip had said revealing a hidden cubbyhole, a cubbyhole full of bottles.

She raised an eyebrow at Rip. “A secret booze stash?”

There was a tiny quirk of Rip’s lips that might have almost been a smile. “It’s comes in useful on occasion.”

Grinning, Sara grabbed a bottle, something she recognized as a particularly expensive brand of whiskey, and headed back over to Rip. “I’m surprised Mick hasn’t already raided this, or Snart never found it for that matter.”

“No offence to Mr. Snart or Mr. Rory,” said Rip as she handed him the bottle, “they might be some of the best thieves in all of history—” He paused grimacing. “Don’t tell Mick I said that.”

Sara drew her fingers across her lips.

“But,” Rip continued, “this is my ship. It has been for a very long time. No one will ever know it like I do. Besides," he added as with a deft move, he removed the cork from the whiskey, "I know a thing or two about hiding things.” He tilted the bottle up and took a long drink. 

“Your ship?” Sara said pointedly as she sat back down beside him. “I thought the Waverider was the Legends’ ship now.”

“An extended loan,” Rip explained, handing her the bottle.

Sara had a few things to say about that, but instead she accepted the bottle and took her own drink. The whiskey was wonderfully smooth and she understood why Rip had hidden this one away instead of leaving it on display in the parlour with the other bottles. He had quite a large collection of alcohol and Sara really needed to talk to him about his drinking habits one of the these days, but like the question of the ownership of the ship, now was not the time.

They sat drinking in silence for a little while. Drinking problem or not, the whiskey seemed to have been a good idea as Rip began to regain his usual pallor and was no longer plagued by tremors.

“Not a bad cure for nightmares,” Sara said as she passed Rip the bottle for the third time.

Rip nodded and took another sip. “Second only to hot cocoa.”

Sara raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“My mother, my foster mother, Mary,” Rip explained. “She used to give us hot cocoa after we had nightmares.”

“I only met her the one time but she seemed nice,” said Sara, “in an uptight British sort of way.”

Rip gave a slight chuckle, the closest he ever really came to laughter. “She was nice, amazingly so considering how much she had to put up with from me, especially when I first came to the Refuge.”

A crease appeared between Sara’s eyes as something nagged at her. “Do you think she knew?” she asked before she had really thought it through.

“Knew what?”

“About the Time Masters. I mean she worked for them, didn’t she? Did she know what they were really like, what they had planned, what they did to—”

“No,” Rip said vehemently, cutting her off. “No, no, no, no.” His knuckles whitened as his grip on the bottle tightened.

Sara cursed herself realizing she had manage to break the small semblance of peace they had found.

“Mother would never have willingly been a part of something which harmed her children or treated them like that,” he insisted, eyes glistening earnestly. “She loved us, all of us.”

“Okay, okay,” said Sara, holding up her hands in surrender. “I was just wondering—”

Rip shook his head. “You don’t understand.” He took another sip of whiskey. They had already made a significant dent in the level of liquid in the bottle and Sara was starting to wonder whether drinking had really been such a good idea.

“Then explain it to me.”

Rip took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I didn’t just start blindly trusting the Time Masters the moment I arrived at the Refuge,” he explained. “I was never that naive. Living on the streets had taught me the only one you can truly trust is yourself.”

Recalling young Rip, the boy, barely more than a skeleton wrapped in rags, who had been ready to stab whoever tried to take advantage of him, Sara supposed she shouldn’t be so surprised.

“For almost two years, I kept stashes of food and cutlery all over the place just in case.”

“Cutlery?”

Rip shrugged. “Knives weren’t always easy to come by especially when Mother started locking them away after I’d stolen the first few.”

Sara grimaced. She could understand the need to have a blade within easy reach at all times. She had learned that type of vigilance the hard way, but life in the League of Assassins was one thing, it was another for a little kid to feel that way. Just how bad had it been for Rip?

“I even had a bag packed and ready should I need to leave,” Rip continued. “You have to understand that the Refuge was like paradise after living on the streets, all that food, real beds, central heating, not having to worry about the rain or... or the other people on the streets, but I knew nothing came for free so I spent my time waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“What changed?” asked Sara.

“There was no sudden change. Mother just wore me down with kindness and patience. Eventually, I realized I was safe, I was home. It was the first home I ever recall having and Mary’s the one who made it that way so if... if...”

Sara’s heart sank as she finally understood. “If she was in cahoots with the Time Masters, then it means that home was fake and pretty much ruins every good memory you have of your childhood.”

Rip nodded and took another slow sip of whiskey. 

Once he was done, Sara gently took the bottle from his hands and put it down on the floor.

“I need this,” said Rip. “I need to believe that the person who cared for me after those nightmares did in fact love me, that she had no ulterior motive, that at least one thing about my time with the Time Masters was real and not some sort of lie or manipulation.”

“I get that,” said Sara, “needing to have something good to hang onto for when things get dark. For me, it’s always been my sister.” She gave a bittersweet smile. The loss still hurt though not as much as it had before. 

Rip squeezed her arm, a small comforting gesture.

“Though these days remembering the team helps too,” Sara added.

“The team...” Rip let out a sigh and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “You know, Sara, when I lost my family, I didn’t just lose Miranda and Jonas. I lost the Time Masters too.”

“And you’re better off without those bastards.”

“Most likely,” said Rip, “but for so long they were my only family outside of Miranda and Jonas. They saved me, gave me so much, a chance at life, a purpose. I knew they weren’t perfect. I didn’t always approve of their methods and I had suspicions certain members of the council were in it more for the power than anything else, but I believed in them and I believed in their mission to protect the timeline.”

Sara was starting to see where this was going. “You trusted them.”

“Exactly, but it turns out I was just their pawn to be played with as they saw fit. The man I trusted the most even orchestrated the whole thing.”

“Druce?” Sara had only met the man briefly but that had been enough.

Rip nodded. “He was my friend, my mentor, the closest thing I had to a father, and he ordered Savage to kill my family. You know what he said to me when he admitted it?”

“What?” asked Sara, not sure she really wanted to know the answer.

“That they had counted on my anger causing me to go rogue so I would do what they needed me to do. The doctor in that video said they might be able to find a use for my temper. Well, they certainly did.” Rip’s voice was full of bitterness. “It seems the more I learn about the true workings of the Time Masters, the worse they become.”

“I’m sorry, Rip.” They were paltry words but they was nothing else Sara could say. 

Rip gazed at her. “You said before I’d gone rogue from every organization I ever belonged to because I don’t trust anyone.”

Sara winced. Those words, carelessly said in anger, seemed even worse now thanks to the recent revelations. “Yeah, I did and I was wrong. You went rogue from the Time Masters because those bastards screwed you over.”

“But I think you were right when you said I don’t trust anyone.”

Sara’s eyes widened in surprise. It could very well be true, even though she had been exaggerating slightly at the time, but she had never expected Rip to admit it.

“The one time I fully put my trust in something,” said Rip, “and it turned out so much of it was a lie I can’t even be sure where the manipulation began and where it ended. After all this time, I’m still trying to figure it out, still learning about things they kept hidden from me. There may very well be even more in those files and I’m not sure I want to find out.” He gazed down at his hands clasped tightly in his lap. “I didn’t even realize it until you said it, but I don’t think I can trust anyone anymore, not fully at any rate, not after what the Time Masters did.”

“You can trust us,” Sara insisted.

“Can I?” Rip’s eyes gazed pleadingly as if begging her to convince him.

Sara scowled. She wanted to argue. She wanted yell at him for doubting them and treating their time together as worthless, as if they hadn’t earned his trust by fighting beside him against Savage and the Legion, but then she recalled what she had just done and her expression fell.

Rip hadn’t trusted her, but she hadn’t trusted him either. Rip hadn’t trusted her with the Time Bureau’s mission and she hadn’t trusted him when he said Mallus was a threat. Rip had betrayed her during the disastrous mission which resurrected Damian Darhk and she had betrayed him when she turned him over to the Time Bureau. They seemed to be caught in a vicious cycle of mistrust and betrayal and Sara was sick of it. She understood where Rip's lack of trust came from now and she wished she could somehow find the words to make him believe in herself and the team, but she feared it was too late.

Looking away, she let out a weary sigh. “So are you still mad at us for going through that file?”

“I can’t say I’m happy about it,” said Rip, “but I can’t really blame you either. Whatever your motivations, it’s true I haven’t always been honest with you or trusted you with everything, so I suppose it’s only fair.”

Sara didn’t like the way Rip said that, resigned as if the betrayal had been inevitable.

“It’s not fair,” she disagreed. “I went behind your back. I pried into something deeply personal that had nothing to do with me or our mission and brought up stuff that—” That had thrown him into an almost catatonic state of shock, she finished to herself. “I should have at least asked you about it first or kept the others from it. I'd have been more than a little pissed if someone had dug up some of my darker memories and put them on public display like that.”

“I’m sure you were just doing what you thought was best for the team,” Rip said, quietly.

Sara was getting tired of him excusing her actions. “It’s not best for the team if it hurts a member of that team.”

“Yes, but I’m not exactly a member of the team, am I? Not anymore.”

Sara pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. “Says who?”

Rip’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Like it or not,” Sara continued, “you created this team and that makes you a part of it. You can’t leave. Even if you take off, even if you go behind our backs and create a whole other organization to take over for us, even if you decide to act like a complete imbecile and betray our trust, you are still part of this family.”

Rip stared at her in disbelief.

Had everything he’d been through make it so hard to believe? Sara wondered. She wanted to kick the Time Masters in the ass all over again. Of course, he was a part of their family. That’s why his betrayal and mistrust had hurt so much.

“We don’t give up on members of this family. That’s the thing, one of many things, that makes us different from the Time Masters. You think you’re the only member of this team to do dumb things? We’ve all done dumb things. Some of us do dumb things on a daily basis.”

A corner of Rip’s lips twitched in amusement.

“You are one of us. You just need to get that through your stupid, thick, pig-headed skull and stop being so damn...” Realizing her voice was rising, Sara stopped and bit her lip. “Sorry, I’m supposed to be apologizing not yelling at you.”

“And you’re doing a fantastic job,” Rip said, dryly.

Sara rolled her eyes. “God, you’re infuriating sometimes,” she said though she was glad to see some of Rip’s old spark returning. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I am sorry, Rip.”

Rip nodded. It was a tiny, almost imperceptible movement of the head, but Sara took it as an acceptance. “I know you want me to trust you, trust the team,” he said. “I want that too and I can try. I will try, but I can’t guarantee I won’t fall back into bad habits and screw everything up again.”

“Well, I can’t guarantee that either,” said Sara. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty good at screwing things up too.” 

Rip gave a wry smile. “I suppose we do have that in common.”

Reaching down, Sara picked the whiskey up off the floor. “You think we’ll ever stop screwing up?” She took a drink, then passed the bottle to Rip.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure we’ll keep screwing up,” said Rip as he accepted the bottle from her, “spectacularly so. It seems to be our destiny.”

“It sure feels that way some days,” Sara agreed.

Rip raised the bottle to her. “To screwing things up all over again,” he declared and drank.

Sara smiled. “To screwing things up all over again,” she repeated. Hopefully, they’d survive the next screw up together just like they had survived this one.


End file.
